Tribulations
by Kenna Monster
Summary: Dean takes care of a sick Sam after the second trial is complete.
1. Chapter 1

"Come on let's get you to bed," Dean said as he helped Sam into the hotel room and towards the bed furthest from the door. Some habits died hard.

The second trial was complete and Bobby was safely residing in heaven where he belonged, but Dean had watched Sam slowly weaken as they traipsed through the woods back to Baby. And try as he might Sam's argument that he was fine to make the twenty-eight hour drive back to the bunker was quickly dismissed.

"M'not tired," Sam argued weakly. Dean didn't bother replying, rather tightening his grip around Sam's waist as his lanky giraffe of a little brother stumbled on shaky legs.

"D'n," Sam protested as Dean deposited him on the bed and began tugging off his boots.

"Dude just relax," Dean said as he helped Sam out of his coat and sweatshirt. He knew he'd probably be more comfortable in some sweats but jeans and a t-shirt would have to suffice for the time being.

Sam reluctantly allowed Dean to push him down until he was lying curled up on his side, watching Dean pull the blankets over him.

"Get some rest," Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed until Sam's eyes slowly closed. Once he was convinced that Sam would get some sleep he worked on laying down wards and salt lines, working quickly and efficiently. Then he changed into sweats and climbed into his own bed, looking over at Sam before flicking off the bedside lamp. His brother was the last thing Dean saw before sleep took him.

* * *

The movement alerted Dean as Sam stirred, fitfully throwing off the blankets in his struggle.

"Sam?" Dean asked, turning down the volume on the tv as Sam moaned, flinging an arm over his face. Dean recognized the classic signs of one of Sam's nightmares and quickly stood up, going over to his brother's bed.

"Hey come on you gotta wake up," Dean said, gently shaking Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?"

The kid moved away from him and whimpered, pulling his right arm close to his chest. Instinctively Dean's overprotective big brother mode kicked in and he gently wrested Sam's arm away from him, inspecting it closely. It wasn't the one he'd used to transport Bobby from hell, which lay on the bed stitched and bandaged. And that's what concerned Dean.

He knew enough about loopholes and getting screwed over by God and angels to understand what was happening to his brother wasn't going to get better once the trials were complete. Sam was on a downward spiral and it was only going to get worse.

"Hey bud I need you to wake up for me," Dean urged, watching as Sam slowly surfaced from sleep. He blinked those hazel eyes up at him and Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Seeing his baby brother in pain brought out his anger faster than anything else ever could. It was practically hardwired into his DNA.

"You were having a nightmare," Dean explained. Sam closed his eyes, forehead scrunching in pain.

"My arm..." He groaned. It felt like someone had put lava into his veins, his forearm aching as it burned.

"Let me get some ice," Dean said before quickly disappearing. Sam had nearly fallen back asleep in the thirty seconds he was gone before Dean's hands were wrapping his arm in a towel packed with ice cubes from the machine outside.

Sam sighed in relief, the ice instantly cooling the fire. He heard Dean chuckle before the bed dipped down next to his hip as his brother sat beside him.

"You hungry?" Dean asked. Sam had slept for nearly fifteen hours but Dean hadn't wanted to wake him knowing that the trial took a lot out of him.

"M'good," Sam replied. "Not hungry."

"Okay," Dean agreed reluctantly. Sooner or later the kid would collapse from lack of food but until then his biggest priority was rest.

"Go back to sleep Sammy."

* * *

They'd been holed up in the hotel room for a day and a half, most of which Sam spent asleep. Finally Dean decided to make the rest of the drive back to the bunker where he had all the necessary supplies for nursing his brother back to health.

Of course Sam did whatever he was told, struggling upright as Dean packed their bags in the trunk.

"Whoa there sasquatch," Dean said as he returned, helping Sam out to the car and bundling him into the passenger seat.

"I made a bed in the back if you wanna lie down," he said, turning up the heat when he saw Sam shiver.

"Mhm," Sam mumbled, leaning his head against the window as his eyes slipped closed. His 6'5" frame was scrunched together, legs pulled up as close to his chest as possible under the blanket. Dean knew better than to force Sam in the back even though he'd be much more comfortable. The only other person who could rival Sam Winchester's stubborn streak was their dad.

So Dean contented himself with a mixtape and occasionally checking on Sam as they barreled down the highway.

* * *

"You finally decide to join the land of the living?" Dean asked, watching as Sam stumbled towards him before flopping into the chair across the table. Dark smudges circled his eyes and he looked like he hadn't gotten any rest, which Dean knew was a lie. He'd slept for nearly twenty-four hours straight with hardly any movement, a practically unheard of feat for Sam. Dean had occasionally checked his breathing just to make sure everything was alright.

"What time did I lay down?" Sam mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Around noon, yesterday," Dean replied. He didn't like how exhausted Sam appeared. "You sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yah I'm good," Sam lied. Dean instantly picked up on it but decided against pressing for more. He'd raised the kid, he knew everything about him and knew when he was lying. But he also knew the best way to beat him was to wait him out. Sam would eventually tell him the truth.

"You hungry?" Dean asked as he stood up. "I just made some chili."

"No thanks," Sam replied, tugging his computer closer to him.

"You haven't eaten in three days," Dean argued.

Sam looked up at him with those hazel eyes and Dean nearly caved. Nearly told him it was fine, eating wasn't important as long as he was awake and coherent. But then the nagging drill sergeant voice in the back of his head spoke up.

"No laptop until you eat something," he said, picking up the computer and walking towards the kitchen. He could hear Sam grumbling but decided a pissed off sasquatch was better than his brother passing out on him.

When Dean returned a few minutes later with two bowls carefully balanced on the laptop he figured Sam had gone to the bathroom and would return as soon as he was finished. He didn't expect Sam to come stumbling into the room, pale as a sheet.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, beginning to rise to his feet. He didn't like how the kid looked, all shaky and wide eyed. "You okay?"

Sam nodded, listing sideways. Dean saw the telltale eyes roll into the back of the head and raced forward, barely catching Sam before he smacked into the floor.

"Shit, Sam! Sammy!"


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N : Your reviews have been astounding! Thank you for the continued support, enjoy!]**

 _Fire racing through his arm._

 _Bright lights, flashes of color, snatches of words._

 _Dean's voice, a tone of urgency._

 _Sam floated in a world of semi-consciousness until the darkness pulled him back under._

 _Vaguely he wondered why Dean sounded worried._

"Be honest," Dean said, his voice hoarse. He was standing in the bunkers library staring at Cas and hoping against hope that the angel knew of some miracle to save his brother. He'd spent the past five hours by Sam's side, talking to him whenever a fever dream gripped him and he couldn't tell what was real anymore. His fever refused to break, and eventually he stopped asking Dean what was wrong and just lay there shivering as his temperature spiked. That's when Dean called Cas.

"I wish I knew," Cas replied, eyebrows drawn together. "Sam's body is fighting against the changes brought on by the trials. There's no instructions on what they're doing to him. As far as I've been able to learn, he's the first to ever attempt them."

"So we have no clue how to help him," Dean said, feeling himself deflate. He KNEW he shouldn't have let Sam take his place with the trials! It should be him lying in there, not his kid brother.

"I'll keep looking. Just try to get his fever down, any way you can," Cas said before vanishing with the distant sound of flapping wings.

Dean just wanted to sit down and drink himself into a stupor, until he forgot the trials and Cas' warnings and the growing sense of worry. But Sam needed him. He'd never let his brother down and he wasn't about to start.

"Easy Sam, I got you," Dean murmured as Sam moaned weakly, the ice water swirling around him. Dean was sitting in a chair beside the tub watching over Sam, hoping the cold water would help. When Sam's fever reached 105 Dean knew it was time for drastic measures.

But rather than wake up once Dean lowered his shaking body into the freezing water Sam barely breached consciousness. Clothed in boxers and a pair of gym shorts, he lay stretched out in the tub with his head lolling against the side, moans the only sign of awareness. Dean tried to stay calm as Sam's fever refused to break, but as he dumped more ice into the tub he wondered if it was even helping.

"Come on Sam, I need you to wake up," Dean pleaded, carding his fingers through Sam's hair. He needed his annoying, gangly, geeky brother back.

Sam moaned. "Hey Sam, I'm right here. Come on bud just open your eyes."

His eyebrows scrunched together as he struggled to blink, looking up at Dean with hazel eyes glassy with fever.

"D'n?" He whispered, voice scratchy. "Where...am I?"

"Tub. Had to get your fever down," Dean explained.

"How...how'd you get a fever?" Sam asked, a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Not me, you," Dean sighed. It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. The fever was scrambling his brain.

"Oh," Sam breathed, eyes closing. He looked better than before but Dean knew how foolish it was to hope for any sort of miracle.

"Let's check your temp," he said, grabbing the thermometer and putting it under Sam's tongue. He wasn't sure if his brother was even awake, but it didn't matter. As soon as the thing beeped he was leaning forward, excitedly reading the 100.9.

"Finally!" Dean said, grabbing a towel. He shook Sam's shoulder, hoping he was still slightly conscious so the next step wouldn't be a complete pain in the ass.

"Hey bud you with me?" Dean asked as Sam groaned and turned his head away. "You gotta work with me here."

Slowly Dean was able to coax Sam into sitting up, then hoisted him out of the tub. He handed him a clean pair of sweats, boxers and a loose t-shirt, all of which Sam took wordlessly.

"You've got five minutes before I come back in here and change you myself," Dean promised. Sam huffed, waiting for Dean to exit the bathroom before he changed out of his wet clothes. Once he was done he opened the door, amazed at how tired he was becoming. The trek to Sam's room was slow due to his clumsy feet tripping over everything, but finally Dean was able to get him back in bed.

"You hungry?" Dean asked as he pulled the blankets up, Sam lying on his side watching him with heavy eyes.

"No," Sam replied, blinking slowly. Dean immediately recognized the signs of his stubborn kid brother trying to be strong. Of course Sam would lie and try his damnest to stay awake. It was just so SAM.

"Alright Sammy, get some sleep," Dean ordered in his best dad impression.

"Not tired," Sam mumbled.

Dean sighed. Nope, nothing was ever easy. "Alright scoot over." Sam slowly moved over so Dean could sit on the edge of the bed and watch over his stubborn little brother who refused to fall asleep even though he was obviously wiped. All in a days work.

He began humming, not even aware of what song it was. It wasn't until Sam's breathing evened out that Dean looked down, smiling to himself at his sleeping brother curled up next to him. He would do anything to take care of Sam.

* * *

"Sammy stop!"

Sam jerked away from Crowley in shock, watching Dean hurry towards him.

"Easy, just listen to me. Metatron lied. If you finish this trial you're dead," Dean explained in a rush. He didn't like how close Sam stood to Crowley, or the glow emanating from his arms.

"So?" Sam asked. Dean stopped. That was the last thing he expected.

"Other people will die if I don't finish this!" Sam argued.

"Think about it Sam, we now know how to pull souls from hell, cure demons, even gank a hell hound. We have enough knowledge to turn the tide! I can't do it without you," said Dean as he took a few hesitant steps towards his brother. He really didn't like how bad Sam was looking, all shaky legs and feverish eyes.

"You can barely do it with me," Sam said. "You think I screw up everything I try, you think I need a chaperone."

Dean shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"That's exactly what you meant! You want to know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was?" Sam demanded.

Dean stopped, fearing the answer.

"It was how many times I've let you down," Sam finished. Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "I can't do that again."

"Sam..."

"What happens when you've decided I can't be trusted again? Who you gonna turn to next time instead of me, another angel? Another vampire? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch your brother..."

Dean had had enough. "Hold on! You seriously think that? None of it, none of it is true! Listen man I know we've had our disagreements. I know I've said some junk that hurt you, but Sam...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom and dad walk free! So don't you dare think for a second there isn't anything past or present I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever. I need you to see that. I'm begging you."

Sam breathed heavily, everything crashing down around him. The two warring sides of him clamored to be heard, but all he saw was his big brother. He glanced at Crowley. It was the closest they would ever come to curing the king of hell. But it was in that moment he realized he'd always do whatever Dean asked. No matter what.

"How do I stop?" Sam asked, looking at Dean. It was getting harder to control the tremors in his arms.

Dean strode forward, grabbing Sam's cut hand and wrapping it in a bandana. "You let it go."

"I can't, you don't understand it's in me," Sam argued as Dean finished wrapping his hand.

"Hey, we'll figure it out," Dean promised. "Just like we always do."

Sam groaned as Dean pulled him into a hug. "Let it go, okay? Just let it go brother," Dean said. Sam reluctantly did as he was told. And as the tremors began to lessen he pulled away, showing Dean his arms which were slowly returning to normal.

"See?" Dean smiled.

Suddenly Sam felt as though his whole body was being crushed. Everything hurt and his lungs constricted, no longer supplying the needed oxygen. He thought his head was going to explode.

"I got you little brother," Dean grunted as he supported Sam outside to Baby. "You're gonna be just fine."

"Sam? Sam!" Sam barely heard his brother shouting his name as he weakly slid to the muddy ground beside the passenger door, his eyes shut tight as he gasped for air.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, looking up at the night sky while he crouched in front of Sam.

A bright light from the sky made Dean pause, as what appeared to be meteors began raining down from the heavens.

"No Cas," Dean mumbled in disbelief, watching the angels fall while his brother lost consciousness beside him.

* * *

"Sammy's hurt. He's uh...he's hurt pretty bad. If anyone out there is listening, this is Dean Winchester and I need your help. Memorial hospital in Randall, New York. First one here gets my help. You know I'm good for my word. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need it."


End file.
